Hard Life of Trevor Philips
by Cris Without H AKA Comix777
Summary: Being Trevor ain't easy. There's a bunch'a rednecks who hate you, people who hate Canadians, people who can't respect somebody's mother - and a fat, turd of a man who just happened to be your best friend. Next chapters are on the way. Previously titled "Trevor's Bad Day". Rated T, for language.
1. Trevor's Bad Day

_Author's note:_

_My one-shot in GTA V universe. May turn into a regular series._

* * *

Rain. The fucking rain, comparable to the Lord pissing all over this sad, pathetic Earth.

Right now it was cold, rainy and Trevor felt that his chopper was about to hit the cliff.

"C'mon, you piece of shit.", he muttered.

He managed to get close to the rock in the middle of the river, but the weather made it nearly impossible to keep the helicopter in one place. He opened the door and reached out, trying to grab the goal of his journey.

"Like reaching into the glory hole.", he muttered to himself while trying to get the damn piece of paper.

It flew out of his reach, pushed by the wind.

"I swear you'll see my butthole when I'll catch you.", Trevor said.

He finally grabbed the damned thing and quickly hid it in his pocket.

Suddenly, a turbulence struck him, throwing him out of the chopper. The former owner of the machine yelled with fear, but his yell was interrupted when he hit the cold, surprisingly hard water surface.

"Fuck my uncle.", he thought and then the sudden realisation struck him. He quickly dived as deep as he could and a second later, the chopper hit the bottom of the river, just a couple feet behind him. The stream took him away, carrying him throughout the canyon and eventually washing him up on the shore, nearby the forest.

"Fuck... fuck, fuck, fuck!", he said, as soon as he spat out the water. He pulled out his phone, once again glad that it was adjusted to his lifestyle. He dialed the number in and pressed the phone against his ear, visually scanning the area and trying to find some clue as to where he was.

"Mike... it's me, T. I need a lift. I'm-uh... in the forest. Not drugged, you fucking turd. I think I might be nearby the road that leads to Grand Senora. I said I think, I'm not fucking sure!", he yelled, pretty sure that he should've call a taxi. Or an ambulance.

"If you see a chopper, taking a bath in the river, just go along the stream and you'll find me.", he said. "Well, I'm not fucking going anywhere! Of course I'll be here.", he said and placed the phone back in his pocket. "Still wonder if Frank should've kill him.", he said to himself. "Or me. Would've spare me this crap.", he said and lowered his head, tired.

A loud roar interrupted his monologue.

Trevor looked in front of him and noticed a mountain lion, looking at him with hostility.

"What are YOU staring at?!"

* * *

"Where, for fuck's sake, are you, T?", Micheal muttered to himself. It took him four hours to get into Blaine County, it was almost completely dark and there he was, driving around for over twenty minutes, looking for his psychotic best friend, wondering if there was any poor deer around who might've stumble upon weird, drugged, crazy, hipster animal of human race.

Finally, he noticed a familiar figure, in characteristic shirt in plaid, old cargo pants and Pisswasser baseball cap. An outfit that Trevor called "the field one".

Micheal drove right next to him, glad that he found him before it got even darker.

"T, get your ass over here!", De Santa said, angry that he wasted so much time on getting there and looking for him.

Trevor was standing with his back facing Micheal, as if he didn't hear him.

"T? C'mon, let's move!", Mike shouted again.

Trevor just stood there, as if he was deeply thinking about something.

Micheal sighed, made an annoyed expression and got out of the car, then walked over to his best friend.

"C'mon, Trevor, let's get out of here."

Trevor turned back to him and Micheal gasped in shock when Trevor spitted out an animal's (at least he hoped it was animal's) eyeball, which he probably held in between his teeth for quite some time.

"Christ, T, what the fuck?!"

Trevor breathed in heavily. "I just needed to show someone his place in the food chain.", he said. Micheal then noticed a heavily massacred cougar's carcass several feet behind them. Trevor turned back, now looking at the forest and shouted "And may that be a lesson for the rest of you!"

He then turned to face Micheal, who was looking at him with shocked expression.

"We can go, sugar-tit."

* * *

"Thanks for the ride, Mikey. I appreciate that you didn't try to take advantage of me.", Trevor said and got out of the car.

"Oh, I apologise, but Amanda hasn't been so cold lately.", Micheal said sarcastically. "See you later, T."

This was it. Franklin's house.

Trevor checked his breath, just for shits'n'giggles, and, well, it smelled like victory.

He pressed the doorbell and waited, until finally, Franklin opened the door.

"Hey, T.", the younger man said with a smile.

"Hey, kiddo, I've got some of those funky space-ship parts and those pieces of paper.", Trevor said.

"Let me have a look."

Older man felt really proud of himself . It took him the entire day, he lost his chopper, he almost drowned and he ate something that could never be un-eaten. But finally, it was about to pay off.

"Thanks, T.", Franklin said, took the parts and letter fragments, and closed the door.

Trevor just stood there.

He breathed in.

He breathed out.

He breathed in again.

* * *

"Calling all units, we got, ur...", the police officer said and looked again, unsure what to say. "... a redneck rampage.", the officer finished and started shooting again, trying to stop an angry man with a minigun.

"WHERE ARE YOU, ASSHOLES, HIDING?!"


	2. Non-violent Ways

_Author's note:_

_Luckenhaft : Thanks for the first review, buddy._

_TexasGunKing : If Frank does that for the second time, I don't think he will survive._

_XDM3galonJD : Well, here are more chapters for ya._

_SectumSemprae : I'm still under great impression of Trevor's rage ability. I mean, he's able to survive the bite from the mountain lion. I only wish he could bite him back :P_

_WolfKomoki : Thanks for the review and for the fav._

* * *

"Get your head out of my balls, Ron!", Trevor shouted as he was making a sharp turn, causing Ron, who was without the seatbelts, to fall face down on the former's crotch. They were driving away from a van filled with rednecks, who were shooting at them with home-made sawn-off shotguns and throwing Molotovs. One of the bottles actually landed on the back of the truck, where Wade was sitting, taking a cover behind the box that the three has stolen. Wade was fine, although one of his shoes caught on fire, making him yell.

"Aaah! Fire! I'm on fire! I'm freaking ablaze!"

"That's the spirit, Wade.", Trevor yelled mockingly. "Keep it up!"

"Trevor, maybe it wasn't the best idea to...", Ron started saying, but Trevor interrupted him.

"To WHAT? To steal their meth and shoot one of them? They should be fucking thankful! I minimised the casualties!"

"Guys!", Wade shouted, now his pants being on fire. He quickly took them off and threw them at the van. The burning clothes covered the front windshield, blinding the driver. The van filled with redneck missed the bridge, drove off the road, fell down into the ocean and was never seen again.

"Good thinking, Wade.", Trevor said. "Pretty unusual for you."

They were back home already and Trevor parked his beloved car in the garage, making sure that the box was left undamaged by the fire.

"It will get smoked anyway.", he concluded. "Well, gentlemen, I think it's time to split the cash!", he announced with joy. "Let's see here.", he said and turned on his calculator-watch. "The meth that we got is worth something about 20 thousand dollars. Well, since there are three of us, this will be easy. As the CEO I take at least 60%.", Philips said, not even looking at his 'co-workers'. "I also did the best on the job, which gives me 10 percent of raise. I used some ammo on those rednecks and my ride got seriously damaged, so that's another 20 percent to cover that up. Wade, you get 5 percent for the sacrifice of your pants. By the way, you don't have to get yourself another pair.", Trevor added, looking at Wade and taking his sunglasses off. "I like what I see. And you, Ron, you're getting 200 bucks for giving me a BJ during the ride.", Trevor said. "But don't you fucking do that again when I'm taking a turn. Do that when I park.", the CEO of TP Enterprises said. "Anyway, the rest will go on buying some more coke and guns for the company. You may go now to take care of that pathetic junk of yours, Ron."

"I know Trevor, it's pretty sad!", Ron agreed.

"Do you have to be such a ball-less yes-man?", Trevor asked with annoyance.

"The worst kind of yes-man!"

"Forget I asked."

* * *

"See what I have to put up with, Mikey? I gotta work with pussies, while on the other hand I have to fight with dicks. Every single reproductive organ in Southern San Andreas is after me!"

"Maybe you would avoid half of those troubles if you weren't such a prick.", Micheal answered, looking for a place to park.

"Maybe you wouldn't attend some bullshit therapy if you weren't such a soft cock, Mikey-boy."

"Maybe I am being soft.", Mike answered. "But I got a wife, two kids that you love like your own, a great house, three cars-"

"And you need every one of them to drive your fat ass around.", Trevor interrupted him.

"Maybe. Still, I'm pretty happy with myself. After all this shit, I can finally say this. But you? Oh, no, you gotta go into this 'rage mode' of yours."

"I prefer to call it 'boner mode', since it gets LARGE. I mean, larger than usual."

"Sure.", Micheal said ironically. "Still, you wouldn't last one day, acting all peaceful and stuff."

Trevor just blowed a raspberry, but Micheal continued.

"Because you're too much of a... pussy."

Trevor pressed the brake of the car they were driving, making them stop instantly, much to the dismay of the several drivers behing them; some of them crashed into each other.

"T, the fuck?!"

"What... did you say?", Trevor asked slowly, after taking a deep breath.

"Jesus... nevermind, we gotta move..."

"Oh, no, we don't.", the crazy man said. "I'm gonna prove that you're wrong. That you're a sad, pathetic, fat, WRONG turd."

Micheal looked at him curiously, ignoring the names and titles he's been given. "And by that, you mean...?"

"A bet. I'm gonna spend one day in public. I'm gonna talk with people. I'm gonna ask them about their problems. I'm gonna speak with them like the softest cock in the world.", Trevor said.

"And what if you lose?"

"I'll blow you."

"Jesus fuck, no!"

"Okay then, sugar-tit. I will strip myself naked and run around Chumash."

"Like if you wouldn't do that anyway."

"Fuck you, 'Fatty Charms'. Okay, so how about this: if I fail, I'll spend the rest of the day walking around in public, dressed up like a pretty woman and saying that 'peace is the way to go' and other bullshit like that."

"I have no idea what happens in that crazy head of yours. But let's assume I agree.", Micheal said.

"But!", Trevor said and raised his pointing finger. "If you lose, YOU will run around Chumash naked."

"T, what the fuck is wrong with you?"

"Either way, ladies on the beach will sea a sand-python in action! Or in your case, a sand-worm. Very sad, saggy sand-worm."

"I hate you.", De Santa said.

"And that's precisely why you love me, sugar-tit."

* * *

"Ok. Here we are. Talk to at least 10 different people and prove that you can be non-violent, non-dickish human being. Or whatever the hell you might be.", Micheal said. He was standing nearby the coffee machine, watching Trevor preparing himself mentally.

"Let's do this.", Philips said. He noticed a slightly overweight woman walking nearby and blocked her way.

"Hello there, uh... good looking.", he said.

The woman gave him infriendly look.

"You want sumthin'?", she asked.

"Oh, all I want to do is help you. Help you get rid of this disgu...", Trevor said and stopped, noticing a mean smile appearing on Micheal's face. "... to teach you how to love your body.", T said instead. "I think we can start from ME loving your body...", Trevor added, only for the woman to slap him and quickly go away.

"She was too large for me anyway... would've crush me with her love pillows.", Trevor muttered. He looked for somebody else and noticed a nerdy teenager passing by.

"Hey! Hey, you!", he called him. The teenager looked at him, visibly confused.

"Me?", he asked, spitting all over himself due to the brace on his teeth.

"Yes, you, you pa..", Trevor said, only to correct himself in time. "...**promising**, young man."

"Um, what do you want, Mr.?"

"Listen boy, aren't you looking for a father figure?"

"What? N-no, I..."

"That's bad, cause your father did a poor fucking job.", Trevor said and looked the teenager up and down. He grabbed the boy by the shoulder. "Listen, I can teach you what a real man is ought to do!", Trevor said enthusiastically. "How to smoke meth, shoot a gun..."

"Uh..."

"...how to make a tattoo with only a screwdriver and some paint..."

"I think I gotta..."

"... how to pull it out before the tsunami comes..."

"I-I gotta go, Mister!", the teenager announced, breaking from Trevor's grasp and running away.

"Fucking kids these days!", Trevor shouted. "So fucking unthankful!"

Micheal was chuckling quietly, which didn't go unnoticed by his best friend.

"I swear, one day I'm gonna..."

Micheal never found out what Trevor was going to do one day, because another interesting person appeared, attracting the latter's attention.

"Hey, you! The guy in fedora!", Trevor shouted. The guy looked at him.

"Oh, dude, this outfit is sick!", the guy said and made the jazz hands.

"Uh... what?"

"This outfit! God, it's so ironic. So outcast-like, almost like a freakin' drunk redneck, but it's just so fresh... I mean, it's completely f-word dirty, but the idea is fresh!", the guy answered. "But you forgot to take the lenses out. From your glasses, I mean. Whatevs, it's still jawesome."

Trevor breathed in.

Then he breathed out.

He breathed in again.

* * *

"It was totally worth it.", Trevor said, putting the wig on.

"You didn't have to fucking shoot that hipster.", Micheal said. "And I really don't understand why did you had that dress."

"You really wanna know?", T asked.

"Nope. Now go.", Mike said with a mean grin.

Trevor made a dramatic pose, pressed his hand against his hip and started to walk like a woman, or rather like something vaguely resembling a woman.

Some guy walked past Trevor, briefly giving him something.

"Hah! Jokes on you, Mikey!", Trevor said and raised something in the air.

Micheal sweared quietly.

Trevor, still waving the piece of paper with the phone number written on it, started dancing the victory dance, scarring countles pedestrians for life.


	3. Revenge!

Franklin slowly opened his eyes. He felt like if he was drinking all night, the headache was unbearable and he could kill for a glass of water.

"Daaamn... my head...", he muttered. Suddenly, he realised that his hands and legs were tied down to the bed he was laying on. "Wha... shit, what the hell is going on?!", he yelled, realising that it was dark everywhere. It seemed that he was still in the bedroom of his mansion, but other than that, he had no idea what was going on.

"You're awake.", a familiar voice said. "Good."

Suddenly, a candle was lit and Trevor's face appeared in the darkness. "I was getting worry that I might've added too much spice to your drink.", he said.

"T, what the fuck... Aight, very funny, now let me go.", Franklin said.

"Not so fast, my racially-targetable friend.", the older man said. "We've got some explaining to do. First of all... have you brushed your teeth?"

"What?"

"A simple FUCKING question. Have you brushed your teeth?"

"Damn, dude, I don't remember what happened... I think so."

"Great. That's really great, cause you've got a big LOAD OF SHAME to swallow, homie."

"Wha..."

"Look. Some time ago, you had my ass running all over Southern San Andreas, collecting papersheets and pieces of glowing junk for you. Did you bother to thank the old man for all the effort he put into that job? Nooo, of course no. So now, I have YOUR ass strapped in here, so we could settle the score. Or should I say, so I could score.", Trevor said and took off the sunglasses he was wearing. "Basically, Imma slap those chocolate buns of yours for a while and when I think we're done, we're done.", Trevor said like if he just found a brilliant conclusion to a complicated problem.

"Dude, what the fuck? Listen, man, just stop. Just lemme go and I'll forget about all this shit, aight?", Franklin said, now getting really annoyed.

"Oh by the way, I allowed myself to take care of Chop.", Trevor said and pulled a bleeding, raw piece of meat out of the plastic bag he was carrying.

"T, I swear to God if you...", Franklin said, furious, when suddenly, Chop jumped out of darkness and grabbed the piece of meat.

"Good boy.", Trevor said. "It wasn't easy convincing him to let me in. I had to smell butts with him for a WHILE before he accepted me as part of the family."

Franklin watched all of this in disbelief. "T, what the fuck is all this?!"

"Basically...", Trevor said and made a pause. "... I'm going to destroy everything you love. Except for Chop. He's one of my own now. So, let's start the show, gentlemen!", he said with theatrical gesture and grabbed something from the floor. It was Franklin's guitar.

"T, that ain't funny."

"I disagree.", Trevor said and dropped the guitar on the floor. The instrument made a loud 'thud'. "Oops.", the older man said and covered his mouth with his hand. He then picked up a gerry can and started pouring the gasoline over the instrument.

"Trevor, for fuck's sake, stop it!", Franklin yelled.

"CAN'T HEAR YA!", Trevor yelled. "THE SOUNDS OF THIS GLORIOUS INSTRUMENT ARE TOO LOUD!"

He lightened up a match and held it for a moment.

"T, you might cause a fucking fire!", the younger man shouted.

"Don't you worry about that, I took care of everything.", Trevor said and threw the match on the guitar, setting it on fire. A fraction of second later, a big fire engulfed the whole instrument. "Revenge!", Trevor yelled and started howling. Chop howled along with him.

Franklin watched his beloved instrument burn down for a few minutes.

"Well, that was fun.", Trevor said. "I feel like eating some Chinese. Or a chicken. Yeah... a chicken would be nice.", the Canadian man said and disappeared into the darkness. He came back after a couple minutes, carrying a wooden box. Something seemed the be struggling inside. Trevor opened the box and just like that, threw a bunch of chickens out of the box and right on Franklin. The scared animals started pecking him like a bag of seeds. "Ouch!", Franklin yelled. "Damn, fuck, stop them!"

"A gift from my redneck neighbours!", Trevor said, trying to outshout the clucking chickens. "They'll be pretty pissed off once they realise I stole them... and kicked grandpa redneck in the nuts."

The chickens eventually lost interest in pecking the young man and jumped off the bed.

"Be free, my brave, avian friends! Be free!", Trevor yelled. "I'll eat you all anyway. Well, were was I... oh, that's right! I have a surprise for you!"

Once again, Trevor was gone for a minute, while Franklin waited. The ropes on his wrists and ankles were strong; there was nothing else he could do.

Eventually, Trevor was back. He was carrying a pair of keys.

"I've always considered garages to be a waste of space.", Trevor said. "That's why I allowed myself to move your vehicle right here, you know. You gotta think outside the box."

"You... you drove my bike INTO my house?!", Franklin yelled.

"Better.", Trevor said and switched on the lights on the terrace. Franklin's car was in the pool.

"T, that's fucking it!", Franklin said and started struggling, trying to set himself free.

"Waste of time." Trevor said. "My Mexican friends got me those. They use them for interrogations. And BDSM. Sometimes both at the same time."

The older man walked over to Franklin's bed. "Well, I think that's it... now, let's repopulate the planet like if it was ruled by apes!", he yelled merrily.

"T, what the fuck?!", Franklin yelled with terror.

"Oh, don't worry. I checked myself for STDs earlier. I only got the usual stuff.", he said. "Plus some weird thing that they couldn't identify.", Trevor said and, with one, swift movement, ripped off his own pants, revealing pink, leopard-print panties.

"Got myself those just for you, sweetheart.", Trevor said. "Now, excuse me if I'll be reckless, but I've got some CATCHING UP to do."

"T, Christ, just fucking stop!", Franklin yelled.

"Just by the way, the girls at my club taught me some new moves.", T said with a grin. "You'll be the first one to enjoy the full spectacular."

Trevor jumped on the bed and started dancing, shaking his goodies in front of poor Franklin.

Franklin had no idea what was more terrifying: the fact that Trevor was pulling off a striptease for him, or the fact that he was ACTUALLY good at it. The older man jumped off the bed and picked something off the floor. Franklin couldn't believe his own eyes. Trevor somehow managed to obtain a long, pink, dildo-baseball bat with nails sticking out of it.

"What... the... fuck...", Frank said with disbelief.

"A gift from my friend in Steel Port.", the older man said.

"T, I'm fucking sorry, okay?! I'm sorry!", Franklin yelled.

The other man was quiet, like if he was deeply thinking about something.

"Alright, I think I'm done.", Trevor said and, just like that, stopped. He dropped the dildo-bat and put on his pants.

"Wait, what?", Franklin asked, now utterly confused. "You're not going to sodomize me with it?"

"Nope. Not today, at least.", the older man said. "I got my revenge. I got my dignity back. By taking yours, of course. So yeah, we're cool now."

"So... you're gonna untie me?"

"What?", Trevor asked with amusement. "Of course not. I'll give you your phone back so you could call for help. Choose the most pathetic person you know so they wouldn't take embarrasing pictures of you.", Trevor said, handed him the phone and, just like that, left.

Franklin dialed the number and managed to place the phone right next to his face.

"Lester? Listen, I need your help..."

* * *

"Don't feel embarrased. I know what you feel.", Lester said while untying the other man. "The college is a place where you should buy your own drinks, let me tell you that. Otherwise, you might wake up in one bed with a weird, old Mexican guy who calls you 'Dolores'".

"Dude. Overshare.", Franklin said and rubbed his wrists. "Thanks for the help, man."

"No problem.", Lester said. He then sniffed for a second. "Do I feel gasoline?"

"Yeah. T burned down my guitar. Said I don't need to worry about the fire, though."

"Yeah... I think I know what he meant.", the man with a cane said.

They both went upstairs and Franklin couldn't believe his eyes. All of his furniture was gone.

"Uh, i-if you need a place to stay, I got a bunk bed stored somewhere, we... we can play board games together and... and we can... do things that lone wolves like us do when they are alone...", Lester said with excitement.

"Uh... I think I'll pass. Maybe my aunt will allow me to stay on her door mat until I get all the furniture back.", Franklin said, then noticed that Lester was staring through the window.

"Um...", Lester said. "I think this might... take a while."

Outside, on Franklin's terrace, Trevor was jumping around a big fireplace composed of wooden furniture covered in gasoline. He was howling to the moon and Chop was howling along with him.

"... so how about this bunk bed, pal?", Lester asked.


End file.
